Current best song ever: “The Lost You” by Hood

Perhaps there’s something wrong with me when I take a perverse pleasure in reading Richard Clarke’s Atlantic Monthly article, written as if the year is 2011 and we’re looking back at the ten years of terrorism that have befallen the United States as a result of the current administration’s spectacularly incompetent handling of national security and foreign affairs: shopping mall shootings, casino and subway bombings, computer viruses that cripple our digital infrastructure, chemical warfare, and short-range missile attacks—all of which result in a decimated economy, almost complete curtailment of civil liberties, and thousands dead. And I’m reading this, thinking: Yup. This is what we’re gonna get, at the very least, for selecting such wretched people to do the world’s most important jobs. Those motherfuckers.

iPod Shuffle = The death of the hip-hop skit. Think about it.

My job sucks. I need a new job. What am I doing working at a law firm, anyway? I’m a writer. Now hear this: I will take a pay cut, give up my health insurance, and otherwise debase myself for the chance to write something and have someone, somewhere, pay me for it.

It’s ten-thirty in the morning and I really, really, really want a beer.

I’m sure I have more whining to do, but this last spate has left me weak. It’s hard work, being this angry. I’ll regroup and be back in a while with more gems of disgruntlement, I’m sure.